


Percy Jackson and the Missing Heirs

by greek_praetor



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Noir, Gen, percy jackson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 00:17:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10477791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greek_praetor/pseuds/greek_praetor
Summary: *I do not own these characters in any way* Noir AU where Percy Jackson is a detective that is tasked with locating the missing Di Angelo heirs. He will be joined by many characters from both the PJO and HoO series.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fic. Comments are welcome. Please be constructive with any criticism.

I looked up from my newspaper for a second as the bell above my office door chimed, and what I saw told me everything I needed to know about the young woman. She was dark haired, it looked brown but it might as well have been black, it was pulled back underneath a green hat. She reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t place it. Her eyes were the eyes of a desperate person. Which didn’t surprise me at all. Nobody comes to me unless they’ve run out of options. I’m a half-blood. I never asked for this life, but when you have the skills that I do… there’s not many other things you could be. The young woman walked up to my desk -- I didn’t let her know that I had noticed her -- and she put a thick envelope on my desk next to where my Oxford shoes were propped up, her hand trembled slightly. I turned the page of the paper, my feet remaining on the desk.   
“Name?” I asked, not bothering to look up. I’m not about to waste energy on a case that I won’t take.   
“Bianca. Bianca Di Angelo,” the young woman said, her voice shaking. Her last name caught my attention. In all my years as a half-blood I had only run into one other Di Angelo. Nico. The last time I saw him, he had just gotten off the bus. He had that wide-eyed innocent look about him. I knew this city would eat him alive if he didn’t have someone watching his back.   
“Should I assume that this isn’t a social call for Nico?” I asked, straightening up as I put my paper down. She folds her hands in her lap, stopping their trembling. It was then that I noticed a silver bracelet with a deer engraving on her wrist. She might have been one of the Hunters of Artemis.   
“He’s missing. Him...and our sister,” Bianca answered, unable to keep her voice from trembling. “Please. Help me find my brother. The police won’t help me.”   
“I’ll need to know all the details,” I mentioned, putting the envelope in a desk drawer. I’d need the money to do this job. Ammunition wasn’t cheap. Palms would need to be greased. I shuddered at the thought of going down to the Aphrodite Club, where you were just as likely to get a knife between your ribs as anything else.   
“Of course. Anything to make it easier to find my siblings,” Bianca said, pulling out a large manila envelope from her purse. “Everything I know is in here. The last time I saw them was around the time of Hazel’s thirteenth birthday gala.” Galas. One of the many things that only the wealthy of Manhattan get to experience. Always revolving around some big pig’s little girl reaching a certain age. It makes sense that someone could go missing during that time. Alcohol is almost always involved.   
“Thank you. I’ll get to work on this and contact you when I make any breakthroughs,” I tell her, gently guiding her towards the door. Every second counts in a missing-person case, and too many have already been wasted.   
“Thank you for helping me,” she wept, barely keeping herself together. She stood on the other side of my threshold. It had started raining steadily during our conversation, and was now a decent storm. I hate leaving people out in the rain so I grabbed the umbrella I kept by the door, hailing down one of the New York cabbies.   
“I’ll do my best to find out what happened to your siblings, Miss Di Angelo. But you might not like what I find,” I warned, ushering her into the taxi. “Good night, Miss.”   
“Good night, Detective Jackson,” Bianca said, settling into her seat. “And thank you.”   
“Call me Percy,” I replied, closing the door to the taxi to stop the rain from getting inside. Cabbies would cuss you out if you made any sort of mess in their taxis. As the car drove off I turned back to my office. I had case to crack, and I had a feeling that I would need to call in some old friends.


End file.
